Labor Day

"The Alarm Was To Blame"
by Wes Fessler

The rush of working people can be seen on every street,
from the rich in big white limos, to the poor who use their feet.
At first dawn's light the clock alarm starts screaming in my ear,
and instantly my mind decides to try to get in gear.
But not a chance, my hand's already found the snoozing bar.
I'll sleep for ten more minutes, then I'll jump into the car.
My eyes have finally opened, and I'm twenty minutes late.
No way. I cannot call in sick. The boss will be irate!
But if I'm not at work on time, he'll hate me just the same!
He won't believe me when I tell him the alarm was to blame.
I'm going to lose my job, and how am I to pay the bills?
Oh I've got an aweful headache, where on earth are those darned pills?
"Honey, honey? Please wake up. Everything will be O.K.
It seems that you've forgotten that today is Labor Day!"